Flowey Gets The Phone
by Lammergeier13
Summary: Frisk and Flowey are home alone when the flower gets hold of the cellphone. Just what kind of chaos might ensue when Flowey decides to reply to a few texts in his own way? (Gender neutral and mute Frisk) (Rated T for language and suggestive jokes)


**Flowey Gets The Phone**

Frisk smiled happily to themselves as they finished their dinner and carried their dishes to the sink. Homework and dinner over with, they were free to do whatever they chose. They were home alone for the evening, for the very first time since they had emerged from the underground with their new friends and family over a year ago. No babysitter tonight! It had been rather tough convincing Toriel that Frisk was truly ready for the responsibility of being without supervision for a few hours after dark.

" _C'mon, Tori…" Sans cajoled, "Frisk will be fine! It's only a couple of hours. The kid's been through far worse without any supervision back underground." Frisk nodded, but Toriel's forbidding frown dimmed their spirits. "I am quite aware of that, Sans. That is exactly why I worry about leaving Frisk alone for so long. Anything could happen, and no one would be here to help-" at this, Frisk crossed their arms, sullen. It's not like they were a baby! Sans reached out and ruffled Frisk's hair affectionately, breaking their sulky mood instantly. Sans was good that way. Next he put his hand on Toriel's shoulder, "Tori, give the kid a chance to show you they can do this. They'll have their phone here with them, and Paps and I will be staying at home that night so if anything DOES happen, we can swoop right in and save the day, or whatever else needs saving." "Well…." Toriel turned to look down into her adopted child's imploring eyes, and sighed. "Very well. I suppose we can try…-" Frisk gasped in pleasure and threw themselves at their mother in a big hug, before leaning back and signing in agreement with all her following conditions. Homework must be done, no excuses. No making a mess, and bedtime at 9:30 as usual. Frisk nodded and then hugged Sans for all the help. "No problem, kiddo. But you'd better behave yourself when it's just you and the weed home alone unless you wanna have a bad time…." Sans winked in his devil-may-care way._

Frisk smiled at the memory. They'd show everyone just how grown up they were tonight. Toriel had left a little while after they'd got back from school, off to spend a girls' night in with Alphys and Undyne at their apartment. She needed a break from the constant demands of being a busy elementary school teacher as well as a doting mother to the young human ambassador of all monster kind. For tonight, there'd be no PTA meetings, no anxious parents, no tests or grading, just girl time with two good friends.

The child's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a chime from their cellphone. 'Not _another_ text from Papyrus asking if I need him to come over and read me a bedtime story!' thought Frisk frustrated, only to furrow their brow in consternation when they saw the blinking red light on the phone. The battery was almost dead! They must have forgotten to charge it earlier. Sighing, Frisk slid the phone into their pocket as they filled a glass with water and went upstairs to their room.

They opened the door to their room and walked quietly to their desk, carefully balancing the glass of water. There on the desk, lit only by a small sun lamp, stood a large glazed earthenware pot. It was colorfully decorated with bright paint, and had a large "FLOWER POWER" bumper sticker wrapped around its side. Standing in the rich soil within the pot was a large yellow flower which appeared to be waking up just as Frisk came in. "Guhhh, what time is it?" he asked irritably, looking at the clock by the bed. Then turning back to Frisk, he growled, "And what do _you_ want?" Frisk merely raised an eyebrow, held up the glass of water, and tipped it into the pot. The cool liquid sloshed onto the mulch and dirt around the flower and was quickly absorbed by the soil. "…Thank you." Flowey muttered coldly, then suddenly seemed to rebound, perhaps due to the fresh moisture. The flower almost bounced in place, looking like an adorable cartoon character with a goofy grin that anyone would trust. Anyone, that is, who didn't know what lay behind the sweet smile. "So! It's just you and me tonight, Frisk. No overbearing tyrant of a mother to tell us what to do. No rules, no regulations! I can think of a few ' _activities'_ we can try if you're up for it…?" His expression had shifted to one of crafty wickedness, hinting at the kinds of things he would have planned for Frisk that night. Frisk just shook their head, refusing to play any of Flowey's games. The flower's face switched immediately to one of disgusted dismissal. "Then get lost and find something quiet to do, I'm busy!" With that, Flowey reached out a vine and picked up a handheld video game from the desk, clicking it on and quickly becoming engrossed by the action on the screen. Frisk rolled their eyes and put their phone on its charger before picking up the empty water glass and leaving to go back downstairs.

Frisk put the glass away in the kitchen and wandered into the living room. They hopped up on the couch and turned on the TV, quickly finding a favorite show to watch. They smiled and settled in for a relaxing night alone without a care in the world.

Toriel's eyes were shining with joy. She, Alphys and Undyne were comfortably arranged in the couple's living room. An episode of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie blared on the television, but was being ignored by the three women as they munched on snacks and laughingly talked about everything going on in their lives. Nothing was off-limits when they got together and dished on their jobs, family and friends. Tori was regaling them now with stories from the latest PTA meeting. "So then Linda says ' _Sans, you… you minority!'_ " Undyne rolled her eye at the lame insult, and Alphys sniffed with disapproval. But Toriel held up a paw to forestall any rejoinders from the two and carried on, "…and Sans says to Linda, ' _Honey, I wouldn't be YOUR 'nority' if you paid me to be!'_ The three all threw their heads back in raucous laughter. Undyne smacked her hand on the side table in merriment so hard she shattered it, sending it crashing to the ground. Not for the first time, Toriel reflected gratefully on the substantial soundproofing that had gone into setting up the couple's home. Between Undyne's violence, Alphys' experiments, and their loud gatherings with friends, they'd never be able to keep any neighbors at all without the magical sound-dampening properties in the walls and floor. 'Not to mention the fireproofing…' thought Toriel, recalling a recent close call involving a cooking lesson with a certain lanky skeleton.

The three of them took a quick break from conversation as Undyne went to the bathroom and Alphys went to start water for some ramen. Toriel went to her bag and pulled out her cellphone, sighing with a mix of relief and disappointment to see that there were no new notifications. She held the phone in her hand and quietly considered whether she should call Frisk, or perhaps the skeleton brothers. 'I could ask them to look in on Frisk…' she tamped down the thought resolutely. No. Sans was right, she needed to give Frisk room to grow. She didn't want to smother the poor child because of her own insecurities, her own painful memories… Toriel decided on a compromise: she would simply text Frisk a little reminder not to stay up too late. 'Just one text, that is all. One text cannot hurt.'

Flowey huffed angrily at the video game he was playing. He flipped his head to get a couple of petals out of his face and got back to the paused battle. This was not going well. He'd been playing the game for a week now, he was almost done. 'If it wasn't for this stupid fucking boss battle!' he snarled. The game's protagonist leapt back and forth on the screen, evading magical attacks from the enemy. He was on the second stage of the battle, and his health was already well under half. If he died, he'd be sent all the way back to the last save point and have to redo it all, the platform obstacle course, the time-dependent movement challenge just to summon the antagonist, and then… the cutscene. The ten minute long, unskippable cutscene. The same scene Flowey had watched several times until he could recite every line in his sleep, complete with the hammy acting. 'If I ever catch the sick, sadistic fuck who came up with this part of the game…' thought the flower furiously, allowing his mind to conjure up images of what he'd do to such a person. 'So many friendliness pellets into so many orifices…' Flowey suddenly flinched as the cellphone lying on the desk vibrated and chimed _Bzzzzzzzt! Beedle-eep!_ "Shut up, phone!" hissed the flower, getting back to his game and happy thoughts of violent retribution.

Sans and Papyrus lay sprawled on their couch, their legs tangled as they each leaned back against their respective ends of the furniture in compete satisfaction with the world as it stood. Nacho night was turning out to be quite a success. The two brothers regarded the magnificent creation standing before them on the coffee table. Between Papyrus' mug of milk and Sans' bottle of ketchup towered a platter of nachos standing at least three feet tall. "The leaning tower of cheese-ah" Sans had dubbed it, much to his brother's irritation. Not that cheese was the only thing to go into the dish. That simply wouldn't be enough for the two siblings. Crunchy tortilla chips provided the foundation, melted cheese cementing them together. On top, a mixture of normal nacho toppings started: sliced chili peppers, ground beef, sour cream, olives, chives, cilantro, salsa, guacamole, beans. Then came the brothers' individual contributions: Papyrus' spaghetti marinara crowned the top, sprinkled with liberal handfuls of Sans' diced hot dogs. They had then gone through the kitchen, adding everything that appealed to them: spices, breakfast cereal, more cheese, potato chips, pieces of fruit, extra cheese, gummy bears, rainbow sprinkles, baby corn, and to finish it all off a tiny sprig of parsley perched precariously atop the mass.

The two skeletons chatted amiably as they each reached forward to partake in their shared masterpiece. Magic was necessary to carry the gooey mess to their faces without getting it everywhere. Papyrus' usual disdain for using their magic for something so lazy was trumped by his impulsive need to keep clean. Sans raised his ketchup bottle to clink against his brother's mug as they toasted the start of a new tradition in the house. "To nacho night, Paps." "NYEH HEH HEH, TO NACHO NIGHT, BROTHER!" The two happily dug into their meal, pausing only to grab more and fight over the television remote. They flipped though the channels intermittently, never settling on one program. Neither of them noticed the small fluffy white dog which had tunneled its way into the nacho tower and was slowly eating its way out. The tower slowly started to shrink in on itself with the intruder's actions.

Sans laid back and reveled in his and his brother's contentment. All was well with the world. They had good food, good friends, and a comfy couch. That's all that was needed. He looked over and smirked as he saw that Papyrus had made a little hat of nachos for the pet rock sitting on the counter. Sans would have to go over and take a couple of tiny bites that night after his brother had gone to bed, in order to keep Papyrus happy that their pet was eating well. 'That is,' thought Sans, 'if we ever leave this couch tonight.' It was so cozy; he didn't even want to think about getting up at all. It wouldn't be the first time the two brothers had simply crashed all night together on the couch. The shorter skeleton paused in his consideration of the possibility of becoming permanently fused to the couch when he noticed his brother sitting up straight and staring into space. "'Sup, bro? You feelin' ok?" Papyrus turned his shining eye sockets to Sans. "SANS, I AM MORE THAN OK, I AM A GENIUS!" Sans chuckled, "Obviously, bro. You take after me. We're no boneheads." Papyrus ignored his brother's joke and dug in the couch cushions. Finding what he was looking for, he held up the battered notebook. THE GREAT PAPYRUS' PUZZLEMASTER PUZZLES FOR GREAT PUZZLEMASTERS stood out on the cover in bright shining letters. Taking a pen from one of his pockets, Papyrus flipped open the book and started scribbling notes on one of the pages. "NYEH HEH HEH! AT LAST, THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS PUT THE FINAL TOUCHES ON HIS LATEST BRILLIANT PUZZLE!" Sans raised a brow, "The one with the jet planes you were talking about earlier?" "THE VERY SAME, BROTHER! WITH THESE LAST FEW NOTES, THE PIECES HAVE COME TOGETHER TO FORM ONE OF THE MOST TREMENDOUS AND INCREDIBLE PUZZLES THIS WORLD HAS EVER SEEN!" Sans smiled at his brother's infectious energy. He caught the notebook as Papyrus tossed it into the air, suddenly searching his pockets for something. "THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL NOW TEXT HIS HUMAN FRIEND FRISK TO SEE IF THEY ARE READY TO FACE THE MOST MAGNIFICENT PUZZLE EVER CONCEIVED OF BY THE PUZZLEMASTER OF THE ROYAL GUARD!" Sans beamed at his ecstatic brother. The honorary title bestowed upon Papyrus by the king and queen at his last birthday party had been a dream come true. Never mind that the Royal Guard was now defunct, and that "Puzzlemaster" had never been a real title in the guard when it was still running. Sans sat back and looked over the new puzzle as his brother frantically typed on his phone.

Flowey was getting very, very angry. His vines tightened their hold on the console as he pressed the buttons in an ever faster pattern. "Come on, come on!" he muttered. He'd finally made it to the third and final stage of the battle. His health was down to almost nothing, and the bad guy's attacks were coming fast and furious, even as they kept repeating the same hackneyed clichés. "You shall not win, mortal!" boomed the villain's voice, "You will fall like all the others, and nothing will stop me from taking over this world!" Flowey ignored the idiotic chatter he'd heard at least fifty times in this one gaming session. He had to win, he couldn't fail! He blinked and looked at one corner of the arena his character was battling in. Was that… Was that a power-up?! Had the villain dropped it earlier? Whatever, he needed it. It could give him full health and enough extra magic to end the fight by dropping this ass-clown of a villain. Flowey maneuvered his character little by little toward the corner. He had to get the power-up before it disappeared. He swore it was already blinking in and out of existence in dire warning that he needed to move faster. "Almost… Aaaaalllllmmmmoooooossssttttt….." Flowey murmured. He prepared to make a final leap to get it. This was it. This was the moment of glory.

 _Bzzzzzzzzzzt! Beedle-eep!_ The cellphone chose that moment to remind him of its existence. "SHUT. UP. PHONE!" snarled Flowey. The damage, however, was done. His split-second hesitance had cast the die. The power-up vanished before him, and before he could react, the next spell attack from the bad guy slammed into the character. They rag-dolled to the ground, and the dark text materialized over the body: GAME OVER. Flowey gaped at the screen. "no" he whispered quietly, then again, feeling weak. "no…" The screen went dark, going to the "CONTINUE? Y/N" option. All the shock and disappointment in his mind turned quickly to anger, then rage. "No." he growled perfunctorily, choosing the "N" option. "No!" he hit the power switch on the console. His vines surrounded the handheld device as though to suffocate it. "NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!" He flung the offending device away from him with all the strength he could muster. It smacked against the far wall with a solid _thunk_ then fell to the bed. "YOU STUPID, POINTLESS ABORTED WASTE OF TIME!" he roared in contempt, "YOU GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING COCK SUCKING SHIT-SWILLING—" he continued, going into a profane rant which would have given even the most foul-mouthed sailor cause to blush.

Downstairs, Frisk sighed and turned up the television. Something must have gone wrong with Flowey's video game, but they were darned if they were going to interfere when the flower was this unhappy. Anyone with a lick of sense knew not to get involved when Flowey started one of his tirades. They just hoped the damage was limited to yelling this time.

Flowey continued his tantrum unabated. "I WILL PERSONALLY SEE TO IT THAT YOUR FINAL MOMENTS ON THIS EARTH ARE OF THE MOST UNBEARABLE PAIN! I WILL ERASE YOU FROM EXISTENCE AND NONE SHALL MOURN YOU WHEN YOU'RE GONE!" As he worked himself into a lather, something caught his eye and he paused. The cellphone sat on the desk next to him, as though innocent of all wrongdoing. Flowey's features twisted into pure hatred. "YOU!" He picked up the phone and glared at it accusingly. "YOU DID THIS! I WILL DESTROY YOU AND EVERYTHING YOU LOVE FOR THIS!" He prepared to throw the phone to join its electronic brethren in a trip to the wall when something made him pause. The screen blinked its warning that Frisk had two new messages from contacts "Mom" and "THE GREAT PAPYRUS". Flowey clicked the text message button to reveal the two messages. The first was from Toriel: Hello my child, I hope you are having a good time on your own. I merely wish to remind you that it is a school night and you must be in bed before 9:30. I am afraid I shall be home later than that, so I will say good night now ]: )

Flowey rolled his eyes. How pathetic! "God, cut the umbilical cord already!"

The next message was from that idiot, Papyrus: FRISK, I HAVE COMPLETED THE VERY LATEST OF MY MATCHLESS PUZZLES! PERHAPS WHEN NEXT WE MEET YOU WOULD ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE OF SOLVING IT! I WILL HELP YOU IF YOU LIKE! NOT TOO MUCH, THOUGH, AS THAT MIGHT DEFEAT THE PURPOSE AND AS THE PUZZLEMASTER OF THE ROYAL GUARD I CANNOT LET EITHER THE PURPOSE OR MYSELF FACE DEFEAT!

Flowey sneered. That moron actually took the stupid title they'd made up for him seriously. "I can't believe I'm surrounded by such simpletons." Looking down at the phone, he saw the brightly glowing "REPLY" button, and a sinister grin spread across his face. 'Perhaps,' he thought, 'Perhaps this night won't be a total wash after all.' Chuckling, he pressed the button and started typing.


End file.
